Lady In Pink

 Do you make one or more resolutions in January?  Lots of people do.  I do.  I think of them more as “plans for the year” rather than “resolutions,” though.  Earlier this year, an event occurred that caused me to make an additional plan.  Not a resolution, but a plan that I’m hoping I can fulfill throughout this year and far into the future. 

Lady In Pink

As I walked into my preferred grocery market, I saw that there were few shoppers.  In fact, I’d noticed that the spaces in the parking lot were not as occupied as they usually were.  I thought that this would mean that my shopping trip would not take as long as usual.  I could only hope.  I remember thinking that the local professional football team was not playing today.  On those days, the stores are usually empty because “everyone” was home watching the game.  Not me.  I’m not a professional sports team enthusiast.

I had my list (I’m old fashioned – it’s written on paper).  I had my bags (our state no longer allows the market to bag groceries in plastic bags unless the customer pays ten cents per bag).  I had my large shopping cart (I usually go to the market once every two weeks or so; I would need to get lots of items).

As I turned one corner, I saw an older lady (not as old as I) with her list and bags and cart.  She was wearing a jump-off-the-wall pink, soft jacket.  It was beautiful and set off her white hair, perfectly.  So, I said, “That is a beautiful jacket.  Pink is my favorite color.”  She replied, “When I wear this jacket, I feel really good.  It just makes me feel wonderful.”   We talked a few more minutes – about the nice, unseasonable weather, I think.  Then, we went on our way to complete our shopping.

As I traversed the aisles, picking up this and that, I began to think.  What if I had not told this lady that I liked her jacket.  Maybe, by complimenting her, I was the only person with whom she would talk during her visit.  Except, of course, the person who checked out her groceries.  Would she have talked with the butcher?  The baker?  The deli person?  Of course, I don’t know.  But, what if I really was the only person who talked with her during all of that time.

People pass each other in the aisles.  Maybe, they smile.  Maybe, the don’t.  Maybe, they only move their cart out of the way to make room for passage.  Maybe, they don’t even look at the approaching person.  Look them in the eyes.  Like two robots passing in the night.

By the time I was checking out, I realized that I’d talked with several other customers during my visit.  I had even asked one tall man to help me get an item from the top shelf – which he kindly did.  And, I thanked him.  “Glad to help,” was his response.  I’d had a conversation with the butcher about shrimp.  The baker had helped me find a product.  I could have searched and searched for what I needed, but their help made my shopping easier.  Each conversation gave a chance for exchanging pleasantries for the day.

Now, I know there are some folks out there who really don’t want this engagement with others.  They want to go somewhere, get their business done and be gone.  I’m not one of them.  I want to know who is around me. 

By the time I’d left the store, groceries in tow, headed for my Tahoe, I had determined this.  Every time I leave my home to shop, etc., I will endeavor to find something nice to say to someone I meet.  Their clothing.  The color of their hair (it may be just like my Daughter #3 and Grand #1’s red hair, my Son-in-Law and Grand #2’s dark, dark hair, or Daughter #1’s white hair (just like her grandfather’s hair).  And, I love white hair; fortunately, I have my father’s white hair.  When I was much younger, I bought my white hair from a bottle, having my hair frosted with white.

I was at the beauty salon having my hair permed.  A lady of about my age was having her hair set.  It was a beautiful white.  So, I told her how much I liked her hair color.  She seemed aghast that I would like white hair.  I told her about loving white hair, but that may not have improved her opinion of her own white hair.

I’ve found that I usually receive positive responses from the people with whom I talk.  As I’ve said.  Their hair.  A ring on their finger.  Their shirt.  Their penmanship.  I like to talk with people.  Maybe, it is about the weather.  Or, the song on the radio.  Or, some other thing that we can discuss.  It does not have to be earthshaking, solve-all-of-the-world’s problems.  It can be a “little” think.  Make the personal connection.

Maybe, it is more than the persons being alone.  Maybe, it is because someone has noticed that they are alive.  Walking around the store.  Waiting in line.  I think people like to believe that they are worth seeing.

So, if some strange lady comes up to you somewhere and compliments your shoes – it may be me. 

Try it.  Make an effort to see the other person – you’ll like it.

Be Safe and Be Well
The Cranky Crone
Thoughtful comments are appreciated.